Cynic vs. skeptic
Election day separates the cynics from the skeptics. The cynic looks at elections with, as my mother used to say, a jaundiced eye and thinks, “why bother, nothing’s going to change, my vote doesn’t matter.” A skeptic, on the other hand, might say, “I don’t completely support any of the candidates, but who wins can make a difference, so I’ll vote.” And, oh yes, the skeptic might have some hope that change, perhaps slowly and sometimes hard to see, can happen for the better.
Bleak as the political landscape may seem these days, change does happen. I’m old enough to remember when Jim Crow laws finally fell in the South, and meaningful civil rights legislation was passed–and enforced. I’m old enough to remember women being paid half what men were paid for the same work. This is significant not simply because change has happened, albeit imperfectly, but because I also remember how I felt in the ’60s–as if all the candidates were essentially comparable (translation: didn’t agree with me that change should happen immediately) so it was pointless for me to vote (though I always voted in spite of those feelings–it’s one of those lessons my immigrant father drummed into me).
So, don’t be cynical. Be skeptical. Skepticism is good for our world and our children. Skepticism motivates us to hold government accountable. Cynicism is good for nothing.
This came from my brother yesterday. You may have seen this one traveling around through email. Good for Election Day.
An Election Day Fable
While walking down the street one day a Corrupt Senator was tragically hit by a car and died. His soul arrives in heaven and is metby St. Peter at the entrance.
“Welcome to heaven,” says St. Peter. “Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, so we’re not sure what to do with you.”
“No problem, just let me in,” says the Senator.
“Well, I’d like to, but I have orders from the higher ups. What we’ll do is have you spend one day in hell and one in heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity.”
“Really?, I’ve made up my mind. I want to be in heaven,” says the Senator.
“I’m sorry, but we have our rules.”
And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance is a clubhouse and standing in front of it are all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him. Everyone is very happy and in evening dress. They run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people. They played a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster, caviar and the finest champagne. Also present is the devil, who really is a very friendly guy who is having a good time dancing and telling jokes.They are all having such a good time that before the Senator realizes it, it is time to go.Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator rises.
The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens in heaven where St. Peter is waiting for him, “Now it’s time to visit heaven…” So, 24 hours passed with the Senator joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns.
“Well, then, you’ve spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now choose your eternity.”
The Senator reflects for a minute, then he answers: “Well, I would never have said it before, I mean heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in hell.”
So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell…
Now the doors of the elevator open and he’s in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage. He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags as more trash falls from above.
The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulders.“I don’t understand,” stammers the Senator. “Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and clubhouse, and we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, and danced and had a great time. Now there’s just a wasteland full of garbage and my friends look miserable. What happened?”
The devil smiles at him and says,“Yesterday we were campaigning, today, you voted..”
Vote on November 2, 2010. Don’t be a cynic, be a skeptic.
Just don’t see how anyone can complain about the gov’t if they don’t do the one thing that they can do to influence it.
I suspect running for office is generally a frustrating, hard slog. So, to all who ran (win or lose)…thanks!
It would be nice if the tone of campaigning could return to something approaching civility. Living in Ottawa I’ve been insulated from the ads, but my relatives across the U.S. have remarked at what a “nasty” election this has been.
I have to close with a shout out to poll workers everywhere: it couldn’t happen without you!
My 78-year old mother will be working a 12-hour+ shift at the polling station in Paia, Maui.
Apparently, it’s hard to find people willing to do the job, so she’s been treating that as her civic duty for a long time now. Mom’s REAL skeptical about the state of the world. But as Ellen councils, she won’t go down the cynical road.
My mom is very fond of quote attributed to anthropologist Margaret Meade:
“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”
I have sometimes thought the winners of an election should not be congratulated. In stead, they should be offered your deepest sympathy!